Reena Bromberg Gaber
“Abraham,” God called out.
“Here I am,” Abraham answered back, awaiting the test that this conversation with God would inevitably bring.
“Take your son–”
“But … I have two–”
“The one you love the most–”
“I love both …”
“Just—I’m talking about Isaac!!” God exclaimed. “Take Isaac—”
“Where—”
Now annoyed with Abraham’s insistence on interrupting, God said, “Listen! Take Isaac, the son you love, your only son, to Moriah and offer him to me as a burnt offering.”
Abraham thought to himself, “Nothing about this situation will end well for me … but God is already annoyed with me, refusal probably would not go well either.”
So Abraham returned to his tent to begin preparations. His servants gathered supplies, food for the journey, and wood for the offering, and the bags were strapped to Abraham’s donkey. Now hearing the commotion, Sarah came from her tent and stopped in the opening of Abraham’s tent.
“Abraham, what is happening?”
“Uh, well, honey, God has another test for me. I have to …”
“What?…”
“Well God wants me to go to that mountain that we passed … uh Har Moriah …. and God wants me to sacrifice Isaac—”
Sarah’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, “Sacrifice the only son I will ever be able to have!? You know how hard that was for me?” she yelled.
“Please, stay quiet. Isaac can’t know yet—”
Sarah rolled her eyes and continued in a whispered voice, “The only real role I have ever been solely expected to hold, the only way to prove my worth, you want to offer him up to this being that has apparently promised that you will have offspring as plentiful as the stars and the sand? How is that going to be possible if your son is sacrificed to God? Is your … other … son going to produce that offspring for you?” The word ‘other’ said with the disgust that might accompany being asked to dig through a dumpster.
She continued, “After everything I have done to help you pass these years with these tests, God will insult me like this, that the offspring will not be mine?” Sarah took a breath and Abraham jumped in.
“I know. I am sorry. God is testing me so God can know if I—if we—are worthy enough for the blessings that we could receive from God.”
“But we won’t get those blessings if your son can no longer give us that offspring.”
“Sarah, God will give us everything that we are supposed to have. I have faith that there can be no negative outcomes from this. We have come thus far, this has to be the last test.”
“But what if it isn’t, Abraham? What do we do then? … My soul is bound with his.”
Sarah received silence from Abraham while he tried to think of the next thing to say.
Sarah interrupted his thoughts again, “You know what, just go. There is nothing I can say that will prevent you from doing this to me.”
Tears formed in Sarah’s eyes so she turned away from Abraham before he saw. He quietly walked out of the tent to finish his preparations, before she could say anything else.
***
As the sun rose the next morning, Abraham, his two servants, and the son that Abraham loved the most, arose as well. Isaac ran to kiss his mother goodbye. She had tears in her eyes but said nothing to Isaac. The group of four, accompanied by the donkey, left. When they were out of sight, Sarah sank down with her head in her hands. The tears she had been holding back flooded out.
“Sarah …” God said softly and slowly.
“What do you want from me?”
“You will still be the mother of the descendants as numerous as the stars in the—”
“God! How? I can’t have more children. You of all beings should know how hard this was for me! How could you make me go through all of this and still pretend like I will get anything out of this but heartbreak? My husband has betrayed me. I will never lay eyes on my son again. What more do I have to do with my life? And why did I not get a say in this?”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you can say? You’re taking away my one purpose and after everything I have been through?”
“I’m not. Nothing is being taken away from you.”
“How is that possible? You’re killing my only son, the only child I have ever been able to bear.”
God quietly said, “I am not. Nothing is being taken away from you.”
“How?”
“If Abraham really goes through with this, I will not let Isaac die. He is too important.”
Sarah looked up, confused. God continued, “The descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sand on the ground will be yours. And Abraham’s. And Isaac’s. Everything that you have done is leading up to this moment. Abraham and you have passed my tests. Your descendants will be my people. And they will have great generations.”
“But why would you put Abraham through this? Or Isaac? Why did you put us through any of this?”
“I have told Abraham from the beginning: I need my people to be worthy enough. I need to know the kind of generations that will come from you. I need to know you will be great.”
Sarah, still confused, asked, “But why? What will happen?”
“You cannot know that yet. The time will come for you to know. And that time will be soon.”
“God, please, just promise me, promise me that no one will be excluded from these decisions in the future. Do not let mothers stay in the dark about what they have to put their families through.”
“I cannot promise that. My role will become smaller as your descendants grow. And it will no longer be in my control anymore. It will be up to your future generations to make that happen. But I will not let them forget that you had a role.”
Sarah, still unsatisfied with God’s answers, was now lost in thought.
***
Isaac was tied to the wood on a rock and Abraham’s arm was held over him, a dagger poised to kill his wife’s only son. But God remembered the promises made to Sarah. God saw the devotion and trust that Abraham had, and called out to Michael to prevent this from happening to Isaac. Michael’s anguish turned to tears and he grabbed Abraham’s arm before Isaac could be harmed. Abraham untied Isaac, both letting out a sigh of relief. A ram ran out from the bushes and they took it, sacrificing it to God, thanking God for the blessings they would receive.
Every part of the ram turned to greatness; no part was wasted. The altar became the Holy of Holies. The sinew became David’s harp. The skin became Elijah’s robes. One of the horns was blown at Sinai, the other will be blown when the diaspora ends. Just as this act marks that Abraham and his descendants are worthy of greatness, so too does this ram, as the ram that saved Isaac, become greatness. But of this small family, none escaped without trauma. Sarah died not long after this event because of the stress it put on her heart. Abraham, guilty for how he left Sarah the morning he walked to Moriah, did everything he could to honor her in her death. Isaac never forgave his father and did everything he could to protect his own sons.
And Abraham’s family was numerous. Milcah, his brother, Nahor’s wife, gave birth to Uz, Buz, and Kemuel, the father of Aram. And Milcah gave birth to Chesed, Hazo, Pildash, Jidlaph, and Bethuel. And Devorah bat Utz, Betuel’s wife, gave birth to Rebekah. And Reumah, Nahor’s concubine, gave birth to Tebah, Gaham, Tahash, and Maacah.
>>Written for a class at the Jewish Theological Seminary. I was asked to create a midrash—a commentary on a story—on chapter 24 of Genesis, the story of the sacrifice of Isaac. This is based on the translations found in the Jewish Publication Society and the Etz Hayim Humash.
